


of love & home

by thronic



Series: perilous adventures through hades [2]
Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, lapslock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:47:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28824711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thronic/pseuds/thronic
Summary: you think about taking a day off, but this isn’t something that’s possible in hell. you don’t even particularly dislike your job, guarding the forbidden rooms and being allowed frequent trips to fetch things carelessly tossed around the evershifting rooms by gods whom thought they’d never need them again. it’s a quaint life, really, and you get to talk to your peers as a mark of ‘business’.
Relationships: Thanatos (Hades Video Game)/Reader, Thanatos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game), Thanatos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)/Reader, Zagreus (Hades Video Game)/Reader
Series: perilous adventures through hades [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2113416
Comments: 6
Kudos: 81





	of love & home

woe may you be, shades spoke, and they spoke a  _ lot _ .

one’s ears would have to become accustomed to the way they do; how their whispers worked, how their countless voices seemed to unanimously disagree on the cause of their deaths and how fair they truly were. ‘oh, for my pain to be so endless,’ many would sing, tongues coated in melancholy. crushed by an opponent, seared by a god’s hand, in spite of warning walked into the sea. such recklessness only does result in the ultimatum of death.

‘i could have gone on longer,’ pray the others to deaf ears, and you wonder how humans can wish for themselves to be without mortality. to experience the full spectre of what it feels like to love, and to lose, and to not need to know of godhood, to be able to care. a human’s will to create had always been more genuine than yours would ever be.

you don’t mind those who simply keep silent, but their baited sobs feel like a punishment too. tortured, alone, these shades made the house of hades more somber than your boss himself did. the souls which truly died unfairly, without much rhyme or reason, only to have to beg to see the light of elysium, to not be stuck in the deepest depths where they didn’t deserve to be. 

request… always, denied.

you think about taking a day off, but this isn’t something that’s possible in hell. you don’t even particularly dislike your job, guarding the forbidden rooms and being allowed frequent trips to fetch things carelessly tossed around the evershifting rooms by gods whom thought they’d never need them again. it’s a quaint life, really, and you get to talk to your peers as a mark of ‘business’. 

with your affiliations running far and wide, it’s a wonder you ever get to see your beloved ones. 

thanatos is always busy. he shares your sentiment that shades can be more than annoying, but he wills you not to show it; tenderly, he explains to you (while you hold onto his arms in an embrace that was supposed to end a while back) that they’re dead and what they need is comfort rather than scrutiny. 

you tease him that he’s gone soft, and his lips ghost over yours for but a moment before he lets go and tells you he should be on his way with a smile so small but mighty that your heart threatens to beat out of its confines.

you don’t exactly tell zagreus that the shades give you trouble, because you know he’s too good for this world and the hatred brewing within the bowels of hades. that he likes the ones that come to the house and haven’t grown violent and malicious, gradually losing themselves in madness while clinging to their lives more ferociously than normal. you know he has his qualms about battling the shades of elysium, attacking him for honour and glory they’d never really get, recognition far past them because of their  _ death _ . 

you do, however, fleetingly press kisses to his cheeks when you two meet in asphodel, or in a room in the corners of the world and close enough to battle to avoid it but to fear it striking. and you wish him luck in his newfound job, you wish him serenity once he reaches the surface before he imminently comes back. 

it pains thanatos to have to carry him to the pool of blood. but he does it, always makes time to hold him close as he unravels on the surface. he’s always early for zagreus, despite his busy schedule which then, in turn, keeps him from staying with the prince for longer. 

(you’ve begged hypnos time and time again to be a bit more polite, but zagreus’ kind smile encouraged the god of sleep to continue quipping at his escape attempts, ever so clueless with what the royals were up to today.)

the shades do not speak much of his attempts while he’s in the abode. you spend little time with him even then, given that your schedules do not align. but you take any moment you’re given together, often lying in his bed and falling asleep to the faint sounds of life in the house. there’s no need to speak, anyway; all words find themselves inked in one another’s brain through your gentle touches. 

more often than not, thanatos joins you two, because his work patterns are even worse and he cannot find as much time to spend with you individually. not that he’d want to. his comfort was in the both of you, the only time the death incarnate’s rest came was when you coaxed him. lured him in. either verbally, begging him to come join you (even though his words would seem harsh in denying, he and you both very well knew the subtle twitch of his arm towards you told you he was eager to give in), or simply resting yourselves as he stumbled into the godling’s room.

the shades do speak, however, of zagreus when he is not there. most find him pleasing to the eye and a real friendly fellow, some find him to be someone to look up to and others someone to envy. though you’ve heard the whispers of the more callous nature; those nasty enough to wish him harm for all his recklessness, and in your presence. you despise it, because he doesn’t deserve it. when you complain about it to thanatos, his expression sours, but he still has the courtesy to tell you every person in greece has an opinion, and the right to exercise it. that there’s nothing you could do that wouldn’t be unkind.

you have half a mind to remind him what gods are capable of and how unkind they are, but the tip of your tongue twists and your lips seal on their own. that would be no good. an insult to character, even, so you simply bare your teeth towards the shades in the best manner there is; a smile, sour on your face and without a trace of agreement.

one day, you’re all able to find respite even with the pressing matters of people’s deaths and the altogether chaos of the underworld. all is temporarily forgotten in the warmth of zagreus’ room. your form is coiled against his back, his head resting on thanatos’ bare chest. the sheets have been long kicked off, no longer cool and only serving to make you more uncomfortable while you close your eyes. you savour the taste of the prince’s skin as you press a chaste kiss to his shoulder, and his head leans back, seeking more contact from you. 

there’s a melancholy in the atmosphere, no doubt from you. you lament, mind going on and on and there’s no lack of supply as to why you’d like this to be a more frequent occurrence. to be able to hold those you adore, to lose yourself in love and pleasure for just a bit. zagreus’ room has become a sanctuary. a way for you to feel the weariness seep out from your bones only for your warriors to destroy it, shatter it to pieces as they comfort you.

thanatos’ hand falls onto your ribcage, fingers gently beginning to tap a melody on your skin. he knows, you muse. he knows what upsets you the most and how personal this job has become. he knows that you revel in these moments with the two men, because so does he. he understands the devotion you show, for he knows much of it himself. 

“rest,” he commands simply, and zagreus stirs in your arms to look at you. they both mean you the best, the godling’s hair burying in your chest as he hums the same, while thanatos’ touch travels upwards to linger in your hair, brushing it away from your sweat ridden face.

and you do, at last, manage to close your eyes and find yourself lulled to a dream where you’re at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> oh hey another short one ! i'm making it a series while i work on something else. anyway this is a 3am fic as in i am posting this at 3am after writing for about an hour


End file.
